The Misadventures of Jabela and Friends
by Two.Shot
Summary: After the great purging of the blight, Fereldens newest celebrated Elven heroine unceremoniously casts aside obligation and spent duty for the search of riches and booty, and not exactly in that order.


''_**Sooooo**_… How did you two _do it?_! What positions did you try? Was it _freaky and wild?_! Was her Staff involved?'' said the dark skinned elf woman, who craned her angular head towards Alistair as she batted her eyelashes swiftly in question.

''Wait, _what_?'' Replied a dumbfounded Alistair, standing near his newly gained throne of Ferelden within a crowded prepared courtroom, trying futilely to not look nervous and out of place.

''Don't try to act stupid! You and Morrigan did it mubari style didn't you!''

''Uh! Jabela! People are _looooking this waaaay_…'' Alistair shook his hands in front of him in warding, looking sheepishly to his side.

''Don't mind them!'' The Elf said sweeping an arm to her side, ''Come on… spill it! Spill all those dirty little secrets, you can't leave me in the dark on this- I _**know**_ a few slimy poultice's were used that night, I saw the corks!''

Alistair's face contorted into a mask of disbelief, also growing a shade redder.

''Hold on a minute,'' he said, ''Why are you even asking me this, are you even _**serious**_?''

''**Of course I am**!-'' The woman sighed vigorously in exertion, she erected four of her fingers in a row and depressed them in counting, ''I arranged the _situation_, I _persuaded_ you, I saved _both_ our lives, and I deserve to know what happened!'' Jabela pounded a fist into her palm.

''So tell me Alistair, is Morrigan the crazy take-charge and bash-your-head-into-wall sort of woman, or the one who is like a bunny, soft and calm and serene, who looks into your eyes as you adorn the velvet hat and buck the forbidden horse? Because honestly, it's difficult trying to measure how she would be in the bed simply by looking at her, not really an open book type-''

''-Truthfully Jabela,'' Said Alistair, clapping a hand over his face, ''I honestly do not remember a single thing about that night… **alot **of alcohol was consumed afterward, and prayer… lots and lots of prayers were said…..… but mostly more alcohol.''

''Oh come on- you're not the type to drink becau-''

''-At that moment in time, I probably could have defeated Ogren in one of his ale games…. -And I do not say that jokingly without absolute _certainty_ and _belief_. It was… a _very dark hour_.''

''You have to be exaggerating.''

''Partly yes.'' Alistair said, with a hint of solemnity accenting the farthest edges of his voice, ''But you know -personally- deep inside, I just don't feel… right in a way about what happened. Don't get me wrong, Jabela, I find gladness in that we both live! It's just that something faint nags at me. I feel something empty, a cold black whisper of a thing so strange…'' He sighed.

-''But enough of this pointless reminiscing about past events! Never mind what I say! We have cake! Go get some before Sten ends up unconscious on the floor! All of Ferelden knows that **you** deserve **cake**!'' Alistair cheered, slapping a smile on his once blank face in an instant, ''I'm going to stand right here and try to look competent, like a good king should be… and also contemplate about raiding the wine cellars to deal with my uneasiness, oh the burdens and funs of royalty, ha!''

Jabela, eyeing Alistair with a dull gaze bordering the fringes of playful, placed her hands onto her hips and grinned sharply, ''**Riiiiight**… Well good luck with that- _your High-ness_,'' she said, swiveling on her heel to face forward the vast courtroom doors afar.

''I'll find out _soooooner_ or later.''

* * *

><p>Seven days later...<p>

* * *

><p>''An <em>Antivan<em> milk _sandwich_? … _Is_ that- _a_ _delicacy_?''spoke Leilana.

''_On_ certain private occasions, _yes- yes it is_'' Replied Zevran.

''**Oh** by the **creators, No more**!'' blurted Jabela.

The chestnut hued horse, bonded with hard leathers and mounted by the wiry elf female, kicked forward into a faster trot at a sharp agitated whip of the reins, breaking away from its other two close companions to take farther point.

Leilana slowly arched an eyebrow at the brief action, turning her head around her in perplexity, ''did _we_ _do_ something_ to_ upset her?''

''Oh _of course_ not-'' answered Zevran, ''by the way, the sloppy Fereldian cream horn is absolutely excellent, I hear all of the fine ladies adore it.''

''_Really_? _How_ odd, I in all my life have never heard of such a great collection of exotic desserts, but they all appear to sound so _delicious_- I certainly must find time to try them.''

''I can assure you my dear, _you_ will not be disappointed.''

* * *

><p>''It's <em>either<em> _that_… or _we-_are-_lost_!''

Jabela drove a pointed tooth into her thin lip in frayed contemplation, flapping the map within her gloved hands by the edge to straighten the image, ''we came_ along_ the wooden stretch! _Where_ is that damn hamlet!''

''_Maybe_ they _had_ moved, yes?…'' Zevran inquired.

Jabela ominously sharpened her eyes in response.

''_**Oh**__**Yes**__**Zevran**_…'' She swiveled her head in address, ''a _prominently_ established village, fortified and served **heavily** by government arms men - located in a **strategic **area where avid merchants and travelers pass _annually_ through - containing over a hundred occupants with _vast_ stone cast **buildings**- just _suddenly_ upped and moved _somewhere_ _else_… _**highly possible**_.''

…''It's _just_ a thought.''

''Perhaps the map _contains_ an error,'' Collaborated Leilana thoughtfully, her hand idly stroking the neck of her horse ''I _remember_ a time where I was given a _bad_ map in my travels… in _fact_, it _wasn't even_ a map at all- but a shopping list that had been moistened and **ruined** by water, I had thought it was showing the lay out of a forest… those cold dark nights alone were _terrifying_.''

In the distance, the feint melodious chirp of a singly bird echoed through the maze of tall oaks that spired up into the air.

''Let's just _keep moving_, maybe we haven't come **across** it just _yet_.'' Folding the map away into a belted pouch, Jabela started her beast of burden forward, on the large dirt path that had lead their movement for most of the humid day.

* * *

><p>''I find it <em>strange<em> that the Chantry's Board is asking _privately… _by_ itself…_ for **people** to handle this _particular_ case. One would have been completely certain that matters of military nature would be handled by the '_military'_ _and its 'controlling powers - _**itself**, especially for the unconditional capture of one its _mutinied_ officers… strange, no?''

Zevran carefully ran the blade of a double edged knife over a small whetstone in his hand, squinting his eyes as he spoke, almost as if he was trying to see something hidden away within his own words.

''The _Chantry_ are known to advertise high tier jobs to the public by request of the army,'' Jabela said, crossing her arms, ''But you _only see _such contracts **if** they are _very_ important- _**noble**__ supported' _important. Normally it is just general public requests that are pinned up.''

''_Ahhh yes_… but regarding the quality relating to this contract… this former high officer who is sought after and wanted- Seslain kormarn… was a greatly decorated man. A _hero_ to his many subordinates- and a leader of a very _elite_ group of soldiers who were a _significant_ help in the battle between Ferelden and the Orlesians… _and of the blight. _It just seems too out of place for there to be a public solicitation made by the oh-so _devotees for such a thing_… but I digress, perhaps they just really really _want_ him dead for some inopportune reason.''

''Maybe… and the keg load of sovereigns in payment doesn't make it too bad also.''

In the air, the familiar roaring scuffle and stirring of large crowds of people at work and in blurred conversations was an ever present background within the fort like village of Sable Salts.

Jabela and her company held themselves to the side of a tall protective wall, watching as people strolled by in a soup of carts and wagons over the ash colored cobble stones.

''They said we were to contact a watchmen named Fernz for more instruction, but where would he be?'' said Jabela.

Zevran twirled his sharpened knife before an inspective eye, ''probably watching something.''

* * *

><p>''We've had reports from several people who reside in the deep farmlands, of a group of men being spotted to the far east, the area of cavernous wild lands. The details given by the witnesses bear similar characteristics that have us believe that these sightings may be of your defected officer: heavily armed, green armor clad, and '<strong>rough<strong>' looking. I can mark the broad coordinates on your map if you like,'' Senior Watchman Fernz Geban stated informatively as he stood before the traveling party, above the massive gates of Sable Salts Fort on the walls walkway overlooking the approach.

''A _group_?'' Leilana said placing a finger to her chin, ''The _man_ is with _others_?''

''It sort of seems so,'' Watchmen Fernz confirmed, ''and I could guess -with some confidence- that those men seen with him were once part of his official unit when he was serving.''

''_Greeeaaat_… this is so _much_ more appealing…'' Jabela gasped with out stretched arms, ''now we have to hunt a _trained _killer who runs in a **pack** made of _**trained killers**_! Cake would make this so _much __**more**_ better!''

''Well, I trust that since you three overcame such a long journey from the midland for this hunt, you obviously will proceed in your quest still, _true_?'' said Fernz.

''It's not like we never expected this man to be in hiding _alone_.'' Zevran quipped.

''_**No**_! it's not like we expected this man to be hiding with others who are nearly _exact_ **replicas** of him! The board didn't say _**others**_ defected too! Argh!''

A dull puzzled look swept grew over Fernz face as he looked upon the exchange, remaining quiet in his standing.

''Is there any other information you can give us, sir?'' Leilana asked Fernz.

''Not much to go on… other then the locals sightings- some hunters who work around that area say some one or something- is cutting down trees and vegetation, and that areas of forestry are dying strangely… _as in _the life of the tree's are withering, loosing their leaves and shedding bark unnaturally… also signs of unusual dark wolves that don't normally appear are increasing in number, and then there are the disappearances of several farm children within the week … but that is it.''

''_Huhhh_,'' Murmured Jabela, ''well… here is my- _map_! -jot the place down, and we'll be on our way.''

* * *

><p>Jabela's booted feet clicked and clapped tersely against the wood steps leading down from the forts high rise, ''It would be a <em>suicide<em> to go out there without a tub full of poultices in our bags, a very _bad_ suicide,'' she said.

''I admit it is an _unfortunate_ revelation to know about this _group_,'' Leilana mused, ''but surely this will not be a major deterrent, _will_ it?''

''Of course _it _wont, we just need to make up for the odds.''

Zevrans eye brows rose, ''Oh? And how will we do that? _Two_ tubs of poultices?''

The lips of Jabela folded into her mouth as her oval eyes swept over the darkening interior of Sable Salts.

A nearly inaudible drone from her reverberating throat recessed from her, dragging on- as the gears in her mind _clapped_ and _turned_ for a long silent moment of practiced consideration...

… Then the candle above the moving cogs flickered alive, and a calloused finger was shot outwards in conclusion.

''Lets go to that _grim_ looking bar right **_oooovvveeeer_** there! …_ It_ looks like the right place _meet_ interesting people .''


End file.
